Freedom

Yesterday I got 2 field trips. Ya, that's right. I haven't been outside of my hospital room for 6 days and I got out twice yesterday. I went to an ultrasound in the morning (all the way downstairs) then Bryan and I toured the NICU last night. It's amazing how I forgot how it feels to have a breeze going through my hair (Bryan was driving the wheelchair really fast - or at least it felt like it). I heard noises, I saw real people. in the real world. Weird. Life is happening without me. Oh well.

If anyone has ever been in a NICU, you had a humbling experience, I am sure. We got treated to a tour by one of the head Doctors (thanks to my Dr). Wow. I am amazed what the medical world can do. Wow. As we went around, I pictured myself on many of the hard wooded rocking chairs there rocking tiny babies connected to all kinds of monitors. And I felt comfort. Not comfort that we would be there soon, but comfort that whatever happens will be ok. Not the perfect situation, but we will be ok.

In the elevator I talked to a mom whose baby has been there for 3 months. The mom was beautiful, confident, and happy. And I am glad that I got to see that, because I needed to.

Next need: fresh air. Will you take a big deep breath of fresh air next time you go outside for me? It's been a while (12 days to be exact) since I have been able to do that, I appreciate it. Oh, the little things that we take for granted.

Some may think it's sad

Christmas time means doing puzzles in my family. Well, at least one puzzle per season. My parents got a new one this year and donated it to the cause (the bored in the hospital cause). Well, Bryan started it last night and by the time we woke up this morning it was done. He won't tell me how late he worked on it. My contribution? I helped pick out the edges last night. Yes, I helped find a measly 20 edge pieces on a 500+ piece puzzle. Anyway the puzzle says, "I'll be home for Christmas". My nurses all think it's sad. I don't. Can't you make home where ever you are? Sure Christmas morning will be different but it's ok. We are home. For now. And we are just fine.

As for today, we are trying some different meds to stop contractions that will not stay away. I am still not sure why these babies are in such a hurry to get here but they are not giving up easily.I hope this stubbornness doesn't last for the next 18 years...

Readjusting my swing

I don’t like playing baseball. Not to brag, but every other sport I can hold my own in. However, I have never been good at the baseball/softball thing. It’s not the catching, pitching, throwing, or even running that I am horrible at – it’s the batting. Yes, I have never been able to figure that one out. I can swing with all my might and totally miss the ball. And I hate it so usually I just avoid it all together. 

One summer I got to coach Primary softball. It was great. I learned how to help people (kids) that can’t hit the ball (like me) be able to get the bat on the ball so they can play. You have the kid take a swing then pitch the ball to the bat. Yes, you pretty much throw the ball at their bat. Works like a charm. They connect with the ball and go running. That’s my kind of softball. I swing and the ball will be there. I can do that.

Apparently (until Thursday) I was under the impression that I was playing Primary ball in life. I was ready to swing and was planning on the perfect pitch coming right at my bat. No adjusting, contact guaranteed. Here was the pitch:

Get pregnant in July, work during a healthy pregnancy until about spring break (when I have to stop because I am too uncomfortable and big), in April give birth to a 8 pound chubby-cheeked baby (we like big babies in our family), then be done with teaching.

Life is not like primary ball. In fact sometimes you get a pitch so wild that you say, ‘Wait a minute, was that one for me? That’s not fair. The girl right before me got an easy one right to her bat.”

Here’s what my pitch looks like now. On Thursday I left school for a regular doctor’s appt. They discovered that I was having contractions (that I couldn’t feel) and was sent to the hospital ASAP.  Friday an ambulance took me to a different hospital better equipped to stop my labor or take care of tiny babies should they refuse to stay in. Although they have managed to stop the contractions through lots of drugs, I am here to stay for a few weeks. Hospital. Bed rest.  Weeks. Brutal. Talk about a wild pitch. 

So we are finding ourselves readjusting. Readjusiting to living in a hospital room, having a career end way sooner that expected, long days of uneventful bedrest, and possibly tiny babies sometime in the future (but let’s hope not too tiny).

So, maybe now I will keep my blog updated. Although, I am pretty sure that I will run out of things to blog about…considering my entire life now exists in a tiny little room. But it will be worth it It just will take some readjusting.